


Solomon's Museum Tour

by DragonflyDays



Series: Obey Me Sexy One-Shots [5]
Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Biting, Cunnilingus, F/M, Magic-Users, Penis In Vagina Sex, Public Sex, Quiet Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:49:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29839041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonflyDays/pseuds/DragonflyDays
Summary: Solomon asks MC on a date to the museum, but he has other entertainment plans in mind.
Relationships: Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Original Character(s), Solomon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!) & Original Female Character(s)
Series: Obey Me Sexy One-Shots [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2182023
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	Solomon's Museum Tour

**Solomon: Say, would you like to go out together sometime?**

**I’d be delighted if you could spare some time for me.**

It always made her laugh when he used his formal tone with her.

**Lauren: I don’t know. Don’t you think that’s moving a bit quickly?**

She tried to refocus on her report but her DDD buzzed again.

**Solomon: I suppose I thought “I’ve been inside her. What’s the next logical step?”**

**Lauren: I can’t argue with that logic.**

**What were you thinking?**

**Solomon: A museum tour. Have you been?**

**Lauren: Shockingly, no. That sounds fun. Saturday? Lunch first?**

**Solomon: A late one, if that’s fine with you. Hell’s Kitchen at three?**

She tossed her DDD onto the bed and stared hard at her laptop screen, but her mind was no longer on the job.

* * *

“Call someone else if ya wanna lift home. I got things ta do.” Mammon waved briefly and took off before she could even begin to retort. He always acted like an idiot when she spent time with someone else, and she’d long lost the ability to care. It wasn’t like he’d save himself for her - or anyone else for that matter - so why the hell would she do the same for him? She turned her back on the busy street and headed inside the diner.

Solomon was waiting patiently with his back against a wall. He had an air of casual indifference that echoed Mammon in many ways, though with less overt obnoxiousness. Thousands of years of life experience probably did give a person some measure of arrogance, she figured. He straightened a little and nodded smilingly at her as she pulled the door shut behind her and ducked around a demon going in the opposite direction.

“You’re late. I almost thought I might be stood up.”

“Oh shut up. It’s been two minutes. I couldn’t find my handbag.”

“You lose your belongings often, don’t you?”

“Yep. And you’ll lose your lunch if we don’t find a table. Why is it so busy here?” She looked about her at the milling crowd, at least twice as many lined up as there usually were on a Saturday.

“Asmodeus mentioned something about a concert at The Fall tonight.” He pointed suddenly to the far corner, against the window. “There. They look like they’re leaving.”

“Mahazael!” Lauren called out as they approached, quickly recognising the dybbuk stacking his now-vanished friends’ trays, “Are you leaving? Can Sol and I have your table?”

“Sure!” His blue hair bobbed as he nodded enthusiastically. “You guys here for the show too? You better eat soon or you’ll get the worst spot in the club.” His grin faded a little as he looked from Lauren to Solomon. “Uh… Here. Have the table. ”

“Thanks Haze. So what’s this concert anyway? I haven’t heard about it.”

He perked up again. “You’re kidding right? It’s only The Marquis of Madness **himself**! Here. Live. In the flesh. Like, shit!”

Solomon took the stacked trays from Mahazael’s frozen hands and placed them on the nearby bin. “I’ve heard their music. Quite good. You’d like them, Lauren; It’s almost a fusion between hard rock and lamentation.”

“Exactly!” Mahazael exclaimed, before seeming to realise it was still Solomon he was talking to. “Uh. Anyway, I better go if we’re going to get good seats. I’ll… catch you around?” He scurried towards a group of demons who were waiting at the door, apparently trying their utmost not to die laughing at their friend’s mild panic.

“Poor Mahazael,” Lauren commented at his retreating back. “He’s such a lovely guy, but he’s just so…”

“Terrified all the time?” Solomon supplied helpfully. She nodded. “He’ll get better. I was the same when I was his age.”

“His age? He’s like five thousand.”

“Fine. When I was the _human equivalent of his age_. Better?”

“Not really,” she laughed, “Now you’ve just reminded me how _old_ you are. No wonder you have silver hair. It’s actually quite impressive you can walk at your age.” She poked her tongue out at him and he wrapped one arm around her waist.

“You weren’t complaining about how well I move last time we were together,” he growled low in her ear. “In fact, I do believe the only thing you said was my name. Repeatedly. Though I’m happy to provide another demonstration if you like.”

“Oooh don’t tempt me, Sparky.” She ran her fingers lightly up one leg and delighted in the feel of his muscles instinctively tensing against her touch.

“Au contraire, my dear. I believe _you_ shouldn’t tempt _me_. I’ve half a mind to take you right here and now on this table in front of everyone.”

She ran her hand further up his leg and lingered for a few moments over his crotch. She smiled wickedly at his held breath. “But if the table were so occupied, how ever would we eat our lunch?” She patted his crotch again and stood up quickly, winking as she walked off to join the line. “I assume you’ll have the devilburger?” A raised eyebrow was his only reply.

“I forgot the damn napkins.” Sauce smeared the corner of her cheek as she cursed. Solomon laughed.

“Yet another on the list of forgotten things?” He pulled her gently back down as she stood. “Allow me.” She watched as he made a few small motions with his right hand, whispering under his breath in something vaguely Mesopotamian.

“Sumerian?”

“Close. Akkadian.”

She hummed with curiosity at his answer, then again as she noticed a small bundle of napkins hurtling towards them both. Solomon caught them expertly and handed one to her as a few nearby demons looked on with surprise, then disinterest once they realised it just was the sorcerer. “That looks handy. And also like it would be terrible for my physical health.”

“Oh I still have to get up for the heavy items. This is just for a delicate touch. It’s quite useful though, especially since its ephemeral nature means I can send it through solid objects.” He pointed outside and Lauren watched as a fallen leaf lifted off the pavement and floated against the window, then began to bounce against the glass. “Of course, I can’t pull other items through solid objects, but it’s still useful.”

“I feel like I’ve been really ripped off in the magic department sometimes.” She laughed, staring at the leaf as it settled onto the ground once again.

“I wouldn’t worry.” The leaf suddenly bounced against the window in front of her face again, the unexpected movement making her jump, then giggle. “Your power is hidden for now but it’ll come in soon. And likely far stronger than you expect.” He nudged at her with his thigh. “Come on. The tour starts soon. We should go get our tickets.”

* * *

The Devildom Museum loomed out of a cliff face like the face of a gargantuan monster clawing its way from the bowels of the earth. The mouth of the beast saw a tiny stream of people volunteering themselves as sacrifices, though the larger part of the crowd remained circled around the nightclub at the far end of the street. Lauren snorted at the sight of Mammon standing under a black marquee near the club, arms full of merchandise as he shouted into the crowd. There was a good number of people crowding his stall, and she smiled to herself. As much as she wanted to punch him sometimes, she always enjoyed seeing his schemes succeed - even the ones that pissed her off.

She gazed up instinctively as they entered the foyer, neck craning to see the ceiling hundreds of feet above their heads. Cast-iron swag lamps hung from chains and stretched across the room like a giant spiderweb of light. She whistled. “British Museum has nothing on this place.”

“That’s because the British Museum is a glorified laboratory.” Solomon scoffed.

“I mean, you’re not wrong, but it’s still pretty impressive. But man, this place is something else.” She gazed up at the ceiling again and followed the lines of vaulting towards the walls. “Did they build it, or carve it out of the cliff?”

“Well we’re about to find that out.” Solomon’s eyes twinkled as he handed over some cash to the woman behind the counter. “The tour is about the museum itself. I thought we’d both rather take our own time with the exhibits.”

“You know me far too well, Solomon.” Her voice was a purr as she delicately slipped the offered ticket from his hands.

“And still nowhere near as well as I’d like.”

The tour guide stood awkwardly at the side of a large arch, bouncing his leg. A small group of demons milled around him, somehow managing to look lost despite not having left the near-empty foyer yet.

“Yes yes, come come.” His voice was insistent despite his nervous energy, and he waved them over eagerly. “Yes, I see your red tickets, this is the right spot. Thank you. Come along.”

Lauren giggled as he urged them both closer to the group, then again when Solomon pulled away again. “What’s wrong? Not one for group tours?”

“Oh I don’t mind them so much,” he commented dryly. “But I prefer to be on the outskirts, myself. Walk up the front if it suits you though. I won’t be the one to distract the good little archaeologist from her history tour.”

She slapped his arm playfully and he raised an eyebrow at her, nudging his head at the tour guide who looked mildly perturbed by the idea of conversation occurring around him.

She shrugged. “I don’t mind. I’ll walk with you and go up the front if he starts talking.”

He began talking almost immediately.

_Though this is of course the youngest part of the museum at a mere 4275 years old, we will begin our tour in this room as it is the most famous of the museum’s architectural marvels._

Lauren inched forward.

_Three hundred and seventy eight feet high, and four hundred and ninety five feet in diameter, the Hall of Damascus was designed by Belial, the Great Architect of the Seventh Age. Six hundred and sixty six lamps are suspended across the ceiling in an installation piece known as the Damascene Net. A sword hangs at the centre, and legend says that if the sword should fall, so shall the King of Devildom._

The guide led the group towards the closest wall and Lauren peered at the place where he rested his finger.

_While you may think this room has been carved from the cliffs thenselves, in fact it is constructed from basalt mined in the Malebolgian Mountains. Each block has been carved so precisely that it fits with less than a hair’s-breadth of a gap between itself and its neighbour. Along with the considered use of natural basaltic colour variations, an illusion of continuity is produced, fooling the observer into believing they are looking at a small cliff-face._

She felt someone brush her arm and glanced over just as one of the other tourists leaned his extraordinarily large head in front of her. “Trying to see, d’you mind.” He seemed like the kind of guy who always had something to be annoyed by.

“Sure. Sorry.” She made her way back to Solomon, who grinned at her approach.

“Are you feeling educated yet?”

She poked her tongue out. “Sorry, were you feeling lonely at the back of the bus?”

“No, no, by all means, go on ahead. I’ll find my own fun.” His smile was oddly cheeky but he sounded sincere, so as the tour guide waved them into the next room she walked a few paces ahead again, listening intently to the spiel.

_This room is the oldest in the museum’s history, having been carved from the cliff face around twelve thousand five hundred years ago, give or take a thousand years. The granite native to this region is difficult to work with, and if you look at the bases of the walls you can see where the original carvers had trouble creating a ninety-degree angle with the floor._

As Lauren crouched forward to see what the guide was talking about she felt a hand brush along her inner thigh. She jumped and cast about, ready to berate whichever disgusting prick thought he had the right to touch her like that, only to see the closest person was the tour guide, well beyond arm reach. Odd.

She turned a little and leaned to look at the wall, her body facing the group so no one could sneak up on her again. There at the base of the wall was a little ditch where the carvers had dug too deep. She pushed the memory of the intrusion away from her mind and focused on the image of a thousand demons with pickaxes, hewing away at the room.

_The centre of this room contains a large drain, with an intricately designed sewer system attached underneath. While the sewer system can be confidently dated to the middle of the Third Age, it is unsure if the drain itself was constructed then, if it is original to the room, or somewhere in between. The construction technique is consistent with the original room, however methods such as these were in regular use for thousands of years, and in fact can still be seen now in some regions of Devildom, particularly in Dis, which is known for its carven halls. If you look down into the drain you may see the silver flash of the pipes reflecting the light from above._

She stood above the drain and stared down into the blackness, little lights glinting back at her. “What was the drain used for?”

“I was about to explain that.” The tour guide’s tone was clipped. Lauren rolled her eyes at Solomon and he smirked back.

_As I was about to say, there is evidence that the drain was the original site of a large sacrifice. Historical records, while sparse, do make mention of a great offering made in a place referred to as ‘The Hall of Stone and Silence,’ and the few brief descriptive notes found are consistent with the placement and structure of this room. We can say with some confidence that the offering was likely of Celestial beings, as Celestial beings were considered the highest value for sacrificial purposes at the time, as they were for much of Devildom history._

She imagined the floors and walls slick with the blood of angels and felt a little sick. Despite her job as an archaeologist it had always been hard to keep her emotions in check when it came to the events of the past, and added to the knowledge that angels and demons could easily live long enough that these Celestials might have one day met her - had they lived - it made her uneasy. History was more comfortable when the past was long gone, and even then it frequently wasn’t pleasant. She leaned forward almost unwillingly, eyes tracing the path of the drain beneath the floor. Suddenly a hand once again brushed insistently up one leg, lingering for a moment at the spot where her inner thigh joined her body before disappearing like a ghost. Once again, nobody was nearby, and this time she instantly understood. She looked at Solomon who had a crooked smile on his face as he pretended to inspect a wall.

“Bastard,” she breathed quietly.

She stayed at the front of the group as they them into the next room, determined to ignore Solomon’s obvious lure. The guide ushered them into a corner and Lauren lined up alongside the six demon tourists. Solomon remained separate, choosing instead to wander about the room as the unamused tour guide stared pointedly at him. Eventually the guide realised Solomon had no interest in rejoining them, and he began his piece with the weighty sigh of a beleaguered hospitality worker. Lauren bit back another giggle.

_This room is known as the vestry. Much like vestries today, it was likely used for the storage of items and clothing important to the ceremonies conducted in the previous room. If you care to examine the walls you may see small gaps in the stone. These are not errors of construction but were deliberately carved to provide niches for the ends of shelves._

She turned and began to search the wall for the niches, not even starting at the sudden – and now expected – feel of a hand between her legs. This time it wasn’t quite as restrained with its movements, sliding lightly but insistently along the length of her slit and resting at her clitoris where it began to twitch. She bit her lip against the growing tingling feeling, and looked more intently at the granite in front of her. Grey. Speckled. No niches that she could see nearby, perha- Her thoughts were cut off as ghostly fingers pushed their way just past her entrance, just deep enough that she could feel them ever-so-gently pushing against her sides and stretching her.

She glared at Solomon but he was on the other side of the room, not even looking in her direction but instead focused on a small display case. She might have even believed him, if she hadn’t been able to see his hands twitching next to him. He turned suddenly and caught her eye, raising an eyebrow and nodding his head at the tour guide, and Lauren suddenly remembered where she was.

_…iques have been shown to be poorly-conducted at best, and our best hope appears to be…_

She couldn’t stop a little gasp escaping as the fingers suddenly delved deeper still, the feel of a thumb suddenly circling her clitoris as well.

“Are you okay?” A nearby couple asked blandly, moving away from her with a funny look, and she held back another gasp as the fingers inside her crooked forward and tickled at the sensitive little bundle of nerves inside her.

“Sorry. Just feeling a little faint. Must be the air.” She stepped back, unwilling to be so close to the others when she was so close to losing her composure entirely.

As the group decamped again, she focused all her energy on ignoring Solomon. Her focus was swimming, and making eye contact was far too risky now. She trailed behind the others and tried to think only about putting one foot in front of the other. It was a short tour. Not long to go now. She could make it. She _would_ make it.

In spite of her haze and the natural darkness of the museum she managed to make out a scene of sarcophagi spaced evenly throughout the room ahead of her. The other tourists were lined up with the guide at the centre of the room, but Lauren instead chose to stand towards the side, still not game enough to risk standing amongst the group. She tried to listen to the guide’s words but whether it was the distance or her mind she could only make out intermittent words.

_…tombs… …modern reconstruction… …original death mask… …trial…_

Ghostly fingers pushed deeper, harder, tickling her from the inside and nudging her to a frenzy on the outside. A buzzing feeling burned within her, pulsing its way from skin, to centre, to skin again. The edges of her vision blurred, and she slowly, quietly inched as far back from the group as possible until she could lean against the back of a sarcophagus and lose her mind in the silent shadows. She had no idea how long she sighed alone into the darkness, and with no peripheral vision she didn’t see Solomon’s approach until he was already in front of her.

“Tour not as interesting as you hoped?”

Like a coiled snake she shot bolt upright and hissed. “You! You bastard! You utter. Fucking. Bastard.” Solomon laughed as she grabbed his shirt collar and shoved him hard against the wall. “You had better be planning on finishing what you started because-“

“Oh trust me, I plan to,” Solomon cut her off with a soft laugh. “But first I want to taste you again.”

Pushing her back against the sarcophagus, he dropped to his knees and ducked his head under her skirt, pulling her underwear to her ankles. He pushed her legs apart with his shoulders and then held her open with two fingers, pausing for a moment to admire the sight before bowing his head and running his tongue along the inside of her lips. He teased her, delicately flicking his tongue here and there, as if undecided about where to pay most of his attention, then pushed deep inside her and scooped his tongue forward and up against her clitoris.

“You taste as good as I remembered,” she heard him say huskily. “I could spend all day like this.”

“Oh no you bloody well won’t, Solomon!” She hissed again, grabbing him by the collar and hauling up as hard as she could. “You get back up here and fuck me right now.”

“Yes Miss!” Solomon rumbled, grinning at her sudden forcefulness. He stood quickly, turning her around again to lean over the sarcophagus lid. She heard the delicious sound of his belt and pants coming undone and tried not to cry out as she felt him run the head of his dick along her wet slit. She bit her lip as she felt him push slowly inside her with a slight pop. With one hand on her back he moved at a glacial pace that drove her to distraction, sliding deeper and deeper inside her until she felt like she might crack in half from the pressure. He held his position for a few moments and Lauren willed herself not to scream from frustration and need.

“You’re still teasing me, you bastard.” Her voice was a harsh whisper.

“That’s where you and I differ, my dear. I _like_ when my gratification is delayed.” His breath was gentle against her ear but she could feel the strain in his voice.

“What can I say? I want what I want _now_.” She bucked against him, pushing him back suddenly and letting his weight push him forward into her again.

He grunted and dropped his hands to her hips, steadying her once again against the carved relief of the coffin lid. “Is that how you want it then? Hard?” He pulled back and thrust roughly into her, pressing her against the stone. “Fast?” Another thrust. “Deep?” He pumped hard into her then stumbled a little when she bucked into him again.

“Harder.” She hissed. “Faster. Deeper.” Their combined weight against the edge of the sarcophagus was putting pressure on her abdomen, and every push from Solomon caused a deep tingle inside her. Her breathing was coming in pants now and she was suddenly struck by the hilariously ill-timed realisation that the tour group must have mercifully moved on at some point. “And keep talking,” She added with a growl.

Solomon hummed appreciatively in her ear. “You like it when I talk dirty, do you? When I tell you how you look as I’ve got you bent over this casket, fucking you senseless. _Thrust_ Every time you arch your back _Thrust_ I push a bit deeper and harder. _Thrust_ Your hair is messy _Thrust_ and you’re covered in sweat _Thrust_ but you’re still trying to hold on. _Thrust_ But I won’t let you. _Thrust_ I’m going to make you beg. _Thrust_ You’re going to beg me for release. _Thrust_ And tonight we’ll come back here _Thrust_ and I’m going to _Thrust_ make you scream. _Thrust_ And I’ll hear _Thrust_ That beautiful _Thrust_ howl of yours _Thrust_ echoing _Thrust_ off _Thrust_ these walls. He leaned forward and bit down on her shoulder as he began to chase their combined end in a frenzy. The pain of Solomon’s teeth on her skin seemed to flip a switch, and she arced back into his thrusts again and again. The tingling, which had until now been concentrated around her clitoris suddenly exploded out like a supernova, and as she threw her head back she realised she was saying his name over and over, almost like a chant.

She heard him moan into her shoulder and her body ached, desperate for more before they had even finished. As he increased his speed again, still biting hard onto her shoulder, she reached between their legs. The instant she cupped his balls it was like a dam had broken open. He stalled for a second as his orgasm hit him, body twitching like a hunted hare, then bucked instinctively as he fought against the end. Almost as an afterthought his hand drifted towards her clitoris, and the sudden touch against the sensitive nub threw her over the edge of the dam again. She clenched her teeth against the threat of noise, and let the blinding pleasure wash over her, body pinballing between Solomon and the sarcophagus.

Her legs sagged as relief and exhaustion hit, and she felt Solomon finally let go of her shoulder and settle against her, his breath erratic. She glanced at his face now beside hers, his eyes still clenched against the end.

“I should really stop coming inside you,” he muttered more to himself than to Lauren.

She snickered. “Give it up. You’re not going to stop yourself any more than I’m going to.”

“True.” She heard him say as he slowly pushed himself to his feet again. “You’re a bad influence on me.”

* * *

As the two walked back into the foyer the tour guide stalked towards them, mouth set in a firm frown. “Why did you abandon the group?” His voice was, as always, clipped.

“I’m sorry,” Lauren smiled sweetly at the tour guide and tried not to giggle when he scowled back. “I was feeling a little faint and Solomon and I decided to take a rest to help recover some of my energy. We should have told you, I’m sorry. I hope we didn’t miss too much?” She wrapped her arm around Solomon’s to emphasis her point, and he gently patted her hand in return.

The guide bristled at the suggestion. “In fact there were three further rooms with extensive histories which I’m afraid you did miss out on hearing. And unfortunately for you both that was the last tour of the day so I’m afraid I won’t be able to offer any further discussion.”

“Oh that’s a pity,” Solomon remarked, patting Lauren’s hand again. “Well I’m afraid we’ll just have to take the tour another day won’t we, Lauren?”

She smiled up at him. “We will. Oh, I wonder if they do night tours?”


End file.
